


Neon Lights on Gray Motels

by orphan_account



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Color Blindness, Color Non-Blindness, Fluff, Gen, I CAN'T DESCRIBE IT OKAY, M/M, Post-Coital Cuddling, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-12 23:32:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3359372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard sees everything in neon, Frank sees everything in black and white.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Neon Lights on Gray Motels

**Author's Note:**

> I was just listening to MGMT's Indie Rokkers and felt kind of really high because it was dark out and snowing and we were the only car on the highway and it was lonely but not bad, so I wanted to write something lonely and not bad. I hope this is not bad enough for you.

Gerard sees everything in neon, Frank sees everything in black and white.

Frank watched the dark of Gerard's eyes shift as the older man traced the outline of his glowing lips, slick and swirling with color, like a pool of gasoline in the sunlight, or the surface of a bubble. Gerard's face kept slipping in and out of focus, sharp and shaky as a newborn, and fluid. It reminded Frank of how images seemed distorted by heat sometimes, in the prime of summer, where the days seemed virgin and lazy and days were spent near the ground, dirt between their toes and heat rising off the pavement.

Gerard's fingers traced the corner of Frank's mouth and up to the crease of his eye, prompting Frank to close them. Even his eyelids were colorful, and Gerard wanted to kiss them, so he did, getting up on his elbows and brushing his dry lips over the skin.

Frank kept his eyes closed for a moment, trying to imagine what Gerard would look like in color, what color looked like, against the inside of his own eyelids. It seemed to him that it was easier to make sense of abstract ideas there. He liked to imagine that he saw something other than black there, that there were colors floating lazily there if he looked hard enough, hard enough to realize that black doesn't exist, that it's just too many colors at once to see at first.

He finally let them flicker open again to look at Gerard, and he forgot why he ever closed them. Gerard may be in grayscale, but he was all the color Frank needed. He was magic enough for him.

Gerard's breaths landed softly on Frank's cheek, and Gerard turned his face to nudge his nose against it, curling his fingers over Frank's warm, bare shoulders. Frank leaned into the touch, taking away the arm that kept him hovered over Gerard, laying on him in the warm cocoon of bedsheets and brushing his eyelashes against the older man's collarbone.

Gerard's hands came up to sweep up Frank's back, and he watched the whirls of color spin out of their lethargic orbits in the wake of his palms, leading up Frank's bare back. The skin was smooth, like silk, and Gerard closed his eyes to try and imagine the tattoos that he knew were there but couldn't see apart from all the colors. He tried to imagine the black of Frank's hair, because it was easy to pretend that the colors swimming in the endless space between his eyes and eyelids weren't actually there, that he was simply seeing the essence of all the black that was actually there spilling out and blocking his vision. He wished there would be something there to keep him grounded, black, white even.

He felt Frank's fingers slowly curl under his ribcage, bringing him back to the world and making him open his eyes. He didn't know why it took him so long when he saw the way the colors dripped down from the crown of Frank's head like liquid, hair spilling out onto his own skin. Frank kept him grounded enough.


End file.
